


For your beating heart

by Veelitann



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, Earth, Forbidden Love, Garrison - Freeform, Gay Romance, Hurt, JATT - Freeform, Jeith - Freeform, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Romance, War, galra - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 11:57:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15662775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veelitann/pseuds/Veelitann
Summary: Long before the war, James had lost hope and the one he loved the most. But now, the war against Sendak is over, and Earth is slowly healing from its wounds. And He's back from space, alive and smiling. The loved one.Living with no hope in anything, and walking ahead with absolutely no reason to, James tries to survive through a new era in which everything feels tasteless, useless and new.





	For your beating heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hi dears! I know, I'm back from the deads with something new again, but I swear you know how I am and that I'll never change XD 
> 
> Voltron season 7 killed me two days ago and here's my resurrection! 
> 
> Hope you'll like that new small thing, thank you so much for sticking with my writing and sending so many amazing messages, I love you all! <3
> 
> Also yes, I've put a Mature rating that will come later, so I don't forget to change it when it's needed AND you guys can know what you're getting into XD

The city next to the garrison had changed. A lot. Every time James Griffin left the basement for the new city that had slowly grown up on so many different races, he felt weird. Not at home anymore. Every time he fell nose to nose with a smiling alien, he wondered what in the world was happening and a shiver ran along his spine. He wasn't able to say if it was some fear, or the surprise, or maybe he wasn't used to it yet? 

Aliens living amongst them was new for him, and even five years earlier he wouldn't even think about meeting other races. Not from actual other planets. 

There was that man, selling huge and weird blue fruits. 

There was that--woman? He couldn't tell, she was always yelling in a language he was unable to understand, probably trying to attract people to see her items. He didn't even have a clue on what she was selling. 

There was as many new things as many new people and races. And it was sometimes overwhelming and tiring and scary. 

Living for years at the Garrison didn't mean James Griffin wanted to meet aliens. It didn't mean he liked the idea of aliens by itself. He didn't hate it, though. Actually, he probably even didn't mind, really, but the recent events weren't the best to accept what was happening in town. 

Human beings already had problems to accept the different people of their own race. So what about races from outter space, in addition to theirs? How would Earth change in the near future? 

He wasn't able to tell. 

And he was scared. 

"Oh, if that ain't the young pilot!" A voice called, and James shuddered a little. 

_Fuck_. 

In the center town, there was that big place where the market was continously open; there was that purple Alien owning the Vrepit Sal place, unusual food smell coming from his kitchen every time James walked by. 

Like every time the young man was trying to cross the place, the Galra had to greet him, no matter what. 

"Going to the new area?" said the cook. It was a Galra, and James remembered the war enough to remember the name of that race and what it meant. How comes all Galra weren't the same as those who had attacked Earth? He could understand, of course, but he didn't know how other planets and races actually worked. 

It was the scary part: doing something wrong in front of a stranger on Earth and be brought back to war for nothing. 

James didn't know how far they could go. 

He didn't know how much they were allowed to say. He didn't know anything about their way of a living. Maybe he could learn? There was a bunch of people at the Garrison that knew a lot about all of that. But here again, James wasn't sure how to do thing, who he should ask. 

Many aliens lived in the basement too. 

The paladins of Voltron, too, had their own quarter since they were back from the hospital. Shirogane Takashi had his own quarter. Members of the High Rebellion had a entire quarter for their main members. 

James Griffin lived in the dormitories of the Garrison, hoping everyday that he could stay there and not be kicked out for any reason. It wasn't that he needed money for that -the Garrison had taken everything in charge for them. It wasn't that he had no place to go -actually yeah, he had no other place to go but hey, he wouldn't be the only one in this case, would he? 

The dormotories were in an area that had been badly damaged by the war, but they couldn't close it; it would mean no place anymore. So Kinkade and James had silently both came to that agreement, as they were the two last ones using the place to live : no word. Sometimes, the ceiling was falling on their head, and they had to take another room to settle. 

The last time it had happened, Kinkade had barely been able to leave the room by himself, and James couldn't forget the colour and smell of his blood through his grey uniform trousers. 

For Kinkade, James Griffin couldn't leave the place. He owed you this, at least. 

They fought together. 

"You're the Griffin, right?" The Galra cook insisted and James shivered again. Not that the man sounded bad, not at all. 

James nodded, zipping up his orange cadet jacket. Of course, no one could miss him with this outfit. A coat would be stupid -the air was so hot and heavy in this mid-summer time of the year. Wearing his jacket was already a mistake but he had almost reached the Garrison. 

"Come here boy! Can I ask you for an opinion?"

James wasn't late. But he wasn't sure if he wante to-

A second later, he found himself stuck on a stool, larges hands on his shoulders and a plate between his hands. It was like his heart and stomach had both made a loop, the hot sweat of the summer dripping on his skin along his back. 

"Uuuuh?" James managed to say. 

"What uh? I can't decide if I put more salt in this, I mean, how is human beings taste for this? Can you help me?" 

James blinked. He didn't expect this. 

Like...

At all. 

"I-I'm not sure if..." 

"Aahhh maybe you already ate this morning? I know about those breakfast habits on Earth, you know, but I totally forgot!" 

James swallowed. It wasn't the first time he was talking to an alien -even a Galra, but he couldn't help his softly trembling voice. The purple alien didn't say anything about it, only giving James a tiny smile -something soft, like an apologize he shouldn't even have to express for his own race. He knew. The Galra knew. 

"Sorry, boy," he gently grinned, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Next time when you're free?" 

James blinked again. The plate in his hands was a little hot and the smell wasn't terrible. He could feel and _see_ how Sal was being self conscious and the guilt suddeny overwhelmed him. 

"I-I'm quite early," he said quickly, giving an eye at the food in the plate. "I mean, I--I didn't take the time for--breakfast..." 

He was lying, but running accross the town every morning also helped with digesting ad he would be lying (again) if he'd say he culdn't eat something right now. 

And Sal's sorry face was something that made his stomach twist in a sorry reaction. 

The meal was something made with hal earth ingredients and half something-he-wasn't-sure-about. But the taste, if new, wasn't bad. Like, not bad at all? It tasted great, and he raised his eyes up when he noticed how Sal was staring at him with a nervous look. 

"W--what?"

Sal grinned, something bigger than before and James forgot to chew. "N-nothing. I'm glad, you look like you appeciate it--"

James choked a little on the food, swallowing hard on a too big bite and Sal suddenly panicked, giving him some strong tapes on the back. "Oh shit, boy are you ok!?" 

James nodded, feeling his face burn from the short lack of oxygen and breathed, coughing a bit. "It's ok, it's ok. Urh, _stop it, it hurts_!" He said as Sal was still patting his back with some strength. 

"S-sorry." 

There was a awkward silence during which James tried to eat again, careful this time and Sal tried to mind his own business behind his kitchen's bar. 

"Too salted," James said after a moment. 

Sal pouted. "Too salted?"

"Just a little. But I'm picky about that part, I never use salt," James casually said, focusing on the plate. He was playing a little with something looking like a green potato cut in big squares with the tip of his fork. He didn't really notice the intense stare of Sal and the quick nod. Quickly, with just a few words and a casual situation, James had felt a little more at ease. The food was great though despite what he was saying. His habit of not using salt only made him more receptive to tastes, so he usually didn't really think his opinion was something to take in consideration. 

But eh, he had to be honest with his own taste, right? 

"Don't take it for yourself," James added as he saw the Galra frowning at the inside of another plate with, obviously, the same type of food. "That's my taste, like I said. You can try with someone else? I'm not the best for this type ot thing." 

Sal hesitated, picked a green potato from his second place and tasted it. "Y-yeah...Maybe..." 

He stared at James for a few seconds and extended a hand. "I--You don't have to eat all of this if you don't like--I mean--" 

"It's ok," James said casually. "It tastes great." 

"Too salted?" Sal grinned. 

"Can bear with it," he shrugged, chewing on another bite. Then he looked around them. At that time of the day, there was already many people in the market. "Why did you asked me? It's almost crowded here." 

At the question, Sal smiled. It wasn't that huge grin from before, but something gentle, something more...Shy. 

"I...Wanted to do something...To thank you...," he said with a low voice and James blinked. "You're a hero... you fought against Sendak's fleet and who in the universe doesn't know how terrible it is? So, uh...That's the least I thought I could do...But honestly..."

Sal sighed heavily, a sad look on his face. "I didn't really know how to catch you. I'm sorry if it sounded weird and forced...Cooking is all I can do..." 

"Oh--"

James didn't really know what to say. It was actually the first time in months, since the fall of Sendak, that someone was saying such a thing to him. Almost no one remembered the names and faces of the MFE pilots and James had thought that it was probably better this way. They could live quietly witout being harrassed or anything like this. 

But being part of such a big thing and not getting any recognition for their work was sometimes frustrating. Especially when the Paladins were the center of the entire attention. They had all worked together, but still, Voltron was the number one thing in the middle of all this. 

He could understand. 

He knew how hard the Paladins had worked, how their journey into space had been long and tiring, how the battled had made them stronger and stronger. He knew all of this. 

But sometimes, it was like being nothing. It was like being a simple human didn't mean anything, like they didn't take part of this all. Likethey had never been hurt by the battle. Like they never trained enough to help. 

The four MFE pilots never got their Garrison graduation because of the war. As a matter of fact, the Garrison had focused on their training for an entire year, then Earth got attacked by Sendak. Then, that terrible battle. 

And then? 

Nothing. 

Kinkade, Rivazi, Leifsdottir and James were still considered as cadets by their superiors. Rivazi and Leifsdottir weren't living in the dormitories, back to their families after all what had happened. Rivazi had lost her father in the Galra attack and had decided to leave and help the rest of her family. Leifsdottir, on the other hand, had left the battlefront to join the engineers of the Garrison. They barely met her now, and James sometimes could hear Kinkake sighed when they managed to see her freckled blond head. The tall man probably missed her, despite his usual silence. 

They both missed their friends. 

They missed Leifsdottir and Rivazi. They missed their dead friends. They missed their dead teachers, gone during the battle while piloting to fight Sendak. 

Sometimes at night, James suddenly woke up, his bed wet from the cold sweat of his nightmares. The blood still printed on his retina, the fear crawling under his skin, the stamina from the battle and the thought that he would be dead in an instant if he wasn't concentrated enough. 

Everything was meant to get on his nerves, day after day since the end of everything. 

Everything. 

For all those reasons, James had never expected something like this to happen. Not even today. Nor from an alien. And least of all, from a Galra. 

"I--uh...I don't know what to say..." he mumbled. "Thank you..."

The food tasted bitter now. He was half glad to hear those words, grateful to the cook and his gentle attention, but also half...He didn't know. Something was a little off about all of this. 

 

When James reached the Garrison a good hour later, the memory of Sal was still here, the taste of his food still there on the back of his tongue. Too much salt. And the bitter feeling didn't leave him. Sitting in sofa the hall, Kinkade had raised his head when James had appeared and joined him. 

"Yo."

"Yo," the tall man answered with his soft and low voice. "What's up? You're late today." 

James let himself fall by Kinkade's side on the sofa. His comrade smelt like coffee and light perfum, something manly and subtle at the same time. It was something perfect for Kinkade and James liked how his friend was true to himself. 

"Got kidnapped by a Galra," James sighed and he felt Kinkade immediatly stiffened. "Kidding. Got stuck at the market." 

"Did something happen? You look weird." 

Kinkade wasn't one to talk that much, so James sighed. "Not really...I'm tired, and it's already too hot today." 

Kinkade slowly nodded. He looked so fresh that James didn't think they both shared the same opinion on _too hot_ , but air-conditionner worked pretty well in the huge hall. 

"Program today?" James mumbled, feeling liquid on the sofa. _Too hot_ , he needed some minutes to cool down. 

"Simulator."

"Fuck simulator." 

"You can't skip today. You already did last week." 

James sighed. The simulator had always been annoying. At first when they were still learning, it sounded so cool. They felt like it was the best feeling ever, to be in that fake cockpit and feel like they were piloting. 

But it had nothing to see with piloting for real. The feeling wasn't the same. 

Freedom. It was another world. Flying outside felt amazing. Fighting for their lives, while piloting an amazing machine had been an experience he culdn't forget. No matter how many nightmares he was having now, it wouldn't change that fact for sure. 

But there was something else about the simulator. Iverson wasn't in charge of that class anymore. Since the soldier was on another front now, by the Paladin and Shirogane's sides most of the time, there had been some changes in their teachers. Probably also because more than half of them had died on the front. Everything had changed. 

Especially since the day the Rebellion had shown up in the basement, bringing many specialists in spying, war, engeneery and all. 

On that specific day, James had felt like something was finally breaking within him. The last thing he'd expected was to see someone from the past. It didn't matter if Voltron had done it right before by making Keith and Shiro alive again -to him, they were both dead for long now, along with Lance, Pidge and Hunk. 

No. 

It was different. 

It had made him weak behing the knees, a heavy lump stuck in his throat as he was witnessing the bunch of new people coming out of the alien ship. Aliens. Aliens. Aliens again. 

And that human being, a hand tightly holding another one while Colleen Holt was running to hug him. 

Matt Holt was the last person James Griffin had thought he would see again in his entire life. 

Because it had taken him months to mourn the man's death. 

It had taken him months to accept that Matt Holt would never be seen in the library anymore. 

It had takn him months to understand how easy it was to lose everything when you built nothing with someone. 

It had taken him everything to get that his life was meaningless and how lonely it felt when he wasn't piloting to forget his own empty daily life. 

And it had taken James Griffin one minute to understand how life was amazing and awful at the same time. 

Matt Holt was back to Earth. Alive. Hurt by a galactic war. Covered with scars. 

Laughing. 

Smiling. 

Joking. 

And not alone. 

"I don't like the simulator," James said. 

"So do I and I still go," Kinkade sighed. "You've been to _one_ simu' class and haven't even stayed the entire time, man. Never saw you like this." 

"Was sick."

"You aren't anymore. Flue doesn't last for three months." 

"Kink', you're nice but I don't wanna go." 

"Don't call me Kink, that's gross."

"Don't tell me to go to _this_ class." 

Kinkade rolled his eyes -it was pretty rare and really funny to look at, but soon he stood up, glancing at James. "Do as you wish. I won't skip with you, ok? I don't want to have problems because of you." 

With a soft sigh, James leaned a little, joining his hands on his knees. "I know. I promise you that you'll have no problem." He knew how Kinkade needed all of this. Those classes, their life here. He knew how all of this was important to him, for personal reasons. And James respected that. Kinkade was one of the best people he'd ever met. Strong and sweet at the same time. Quiet, and still able to have the best words at the right time. Clever. 

Sad. 

And determinated. 

Through their battles, Kinkade had earned James' respect more than once, along with his friendship and devotion. He was someone you wanted to cherrish, hard, no matter how. 

"Hey, Kink'?" James called as the man was starting to walk away.

" _James_!" Kinkade hissed. 

"Don't tell them I'm skipping. 'Kay?" 

"I don't see what you're talking about, man. Didn't see you this morning." 

With this and a quick wave from his hand, Kinkade disappeared in the nearest elevator to get to the simulator area. For a moment, James stayed on the sofa, trying to figure out what he'd do. Why did he even come today, after all? He knew the program. He knew it, and didn't need Kinkade to tell him. But he needed it. He needed to come to this place. He needed this feeling, the sound of the basement all over him, the voices of instructors walking by, the beeps of elevators nearby everytime someone was using them, the sound of air-pressure everytime someone was opening an automatic door. 

For months now, it meant a lot. These were everyday sounds. 

Sounds that meant they were alive. 

James needed this. All of this. After a night full of nightmares in a too hot room in the dormitories, he needed those sounds. He need to see them all, no matter if he knew their names or not. 

He needed to feel how alive they all were. 

Eventually, James stood up. The library was his favorite place when he wasn't in class. It was quiet, and no one dared annoy him here. The Paladins never showed up in such a place -they had better things to do, instructors were giving classes most of the time and officers were working their ass on too many things to take the time to come here. 

It was just the best place to be alone. 

Alone with himself in a deadly silence. It was all he needed and-

"Griffin?" 

James jumped at his name, dropping the books he'd just selected. His heart had skipped a beat at the voice. He tried to not notice how fast it as beating right now, tried not to feel the huge lump in his throat. 

"Yes sir?" he said, turning to face the officer. 

The long hair looked less messy than on the day he'd been back to Earth with the Rebellion. There were no glasses since the Kerberos mission. The cocky grin hadn't changed after all this time. It was just so much more confident now. So much sadder and full of too many things.

"Class begins in five minutes," the man said. "Don't be like me and forget yourself in those books, ok?" 

James swallowed, hard and thick. Sometimes, he wanted to yell at life for being a bitch. Sometimes he wanted to thank life for giving him those very few occasions. 

He wanted to run away, though. 

"Yes, sir," he murmured, leaning to get the book on the floor. 

With his dark green uniform, the rebel sure had a certain look and immediatly caught the eyes. It was something else than his weird outfit from space when he'd come back to Earth. 

"I'll see you in class, Griffin." 

James nodded before the man turned his heels and left. 

What a trap. 

_Matt Holt was their new simulator instructor_. 

His stomach didn't really want to cooperate with Sal's food at the idea of going to class right now. 

But everytime he met the golden eyes, it made him weak. He knew how bad things were leading him, but he couldn't help. 

When Matt Holt was back at the Garrison, alive and surrounded by the Rebellion, it was like life was having a sense again. It was like having a reason to keep fighting and live in this new world they had to recreate. 

"Boy, hurry up!" Matt Holt's head appeared in the door frame with a pouting face and James jumped again, barely holding back a scream. 

The man was waiting for him. 

He couldn't escape. 

Kinkade would probably laugh at him for days after that. 

_Fuck_.


End file.
